


say a little prayer

by cathrheas



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, F/F, POV First Person, Religion, does any of this make sense? im so tired it might not., its past midnight so im going all introspective teehee, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas
Summary: Dorothea gets into religion for a girl. She doesn't know why she does things sometimes.





	say a little prayer

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a defiant protest against the fact that mercedes is a side character in the majority of the stories in her tag
> 
> .......then i just went and made her kind of a side character

Dear Goddess,

Wow. I can't believe I'm actually praying. I mean, everybody prays every now and then, even people like me who don't really believe in this sort of thing. But that's usually...more spur-of-the-moment. You know, right before you go into battle, or when you’re playing a lottery, or something like that. I’ve never really sat at my bedside and prayed before bed.

I guess if you’re as all-knowing as people make you out to be, you know that I’m only doing this because Mercedes does it. I know, I know, it’s a little late to get into this, but Mercedes...well, she’s not the kind that you can say no to! 

Sometimes she does this for like, a half an hour. If not more. But I’m already running out of things to say. I guess I should pray for things that I care about, so that you’ll keep them safe. I know I’m not much of a believer, but...do me a favor, will you?

Well, Mercedes, obviously. But you’re probably protecting her anyway, she’s so sweet and pious. So, Manuela, then. She could use a little help here and there (in the nice way!). The opera house, too, of course...and the Professor! And Edie...and I think that’s it for now.

Oh, and me. If you can ever find the time.

* * *

Dear Goddess,

Mercedes prayed out loud today. I was glad to hear that she was so casual when she talked to you. It wasn’t like, “Hey Goddess, what’s up?!” or anything like that, but it wasn’t formal. I’m certainly not being formal, so...well, it’s good to know I’m not desecrating your name, or anything.

Mostly she just...talked about her day. So I guess I’ll give that a try.

Most of my day was spent with Mercie. We talked a little more about the whole religion thing, and she told me about what got her started, sort of. It...was really sad. I knew she had been raised in a church, but didn’t know she had a brother, or that she was just used for Crests. Like everyone else. 

I asked her why she would even trust a Goddess who let that happen to her. And I felt bad as soon as I said it, so please, don’t strike me down or anything. But, anyway, she wasn’t at all...upset. She just smiled at me and said that the Goddess was testing her, and she had passed, because no matter how many horrible political games were being played, she was still the kindest girl she could be.

And I’m glad she’s happy. Trust me, I am. But something like this—praying to someone who never responds, who let you get hurt over and over—can only be a temporary fix, right? What if one day she realizes that you’re never listening?

I hope you’re listening. Please tell me you’re listening. If she finds out you’re not, I worry about what will happen.

Please protect Mercie, and Manuela, and...Felix, too. I was just thinking about him, and I feel like he needs a little love. Doesn’t everybody, though?

* * *

Dear Goddess,

I was hoping Mercie and I could have a casual sort of friendship, but it doesn’t seem to go that way. We’re always talking about something heavy, even if our tones are light. She asked me what I prayed about, and I said I prayed for her. She said she prayed for me too. I asked why, and she said she felt like I needed it. Then she said something strange. It didn’t offend me, but it was strange. She said,  _ The people who don’t believe in the Goddess are those who usually need her the most. _

The truth is, I don’t need you. I’m praying to you because Mercie gets excited about this kind of thing, and I want her to be pleased. But I really, really do not need you. I mean, nineteen years of being alive and I’ve been through it all. Living as a commoner isn’t bad on its own, I suppose, but when you throw haughty royals into the mix, people who don’t even think you have a right to walk the same planet as them, then it gets rough. Even in the opera house, sometimes I felt like I didn’t belong. Sometimes I thought I was alone, and sometimes I really, truly was.

And who got me through all of that? Me. Yes, I had Manuela, and people from Mittelfrank that appreciated me, and all of my fans...but they weren’t there for it all. They weren’t there for the climb up with people spitting on me from up top. And you weren’t either. I’m not complaining. I’m not bitter about you not helping me. I don’t need anybody’s help, to make that clear.

I just wanted you to know that. I hate to say it, but Mercie was wrong about that.

If you’re not planning my untimely death thanks to this awful prayer, then that’s dandy. Just be sure to protect Mercie and Manuela. And Cyril, too. I have a soft spot for kids. But I guess you know that.

* * *

Dear Goddess,

Well, I think I just got turned down thanks to you. I think you might be real, now, since this was probably your doing. I know I’ve been a little bit of a bitch, but that was a low blow.

In case it wasn’t clear, I like Mercie. Like, like her, like her. And I’m not shy about these kinds of things, usually, so I just came out and told her. And she said she wasn’t sure. I thought it was the whole “two girls” thing—it usually is with holy girls like her—but it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure about my dedication to you.

She said that it isn’t a  _ requirement _ she has for potential partners, but that she cared about me too much to see me suffer without having your protection. And I told her I had asked for it. Maybe a little nonchalantly, but I had asked. Then she asked me if I really believed in you, and I said I didn’t, really. I said that it was impossible for me to believe, after all that you’d watched me go through without giving me a leg to stand on.

And I guess we had a bit of an argument. She said that that wasn’t very fair to say—after all, she’d been through quite a lot, too, and she still believed in you. And I said that if that was what kept her going, that was fine, but I just couldn’t believe. Not when I felt like I was alone.

She said,  _ You’re  _ not _ alone. _ She sounded heartbroken. Then she said she’d have to think about it, and that I should think, too.

I don’t know what to even think about. I want to blame this on you, but according to me, you don’t even exist, right?

And by the way, since you’re already working on sabotaging my life, I lied when I said I wasn’t bitter about you leaving me behind for all those years. Because I am. But you don’t like liars, I’m sure, so I’ll tell you the truth: I’m pissed. I’m lonely and bitter and angry but I can’t show all of that, because girls like me don’t have the privilege of having emotions, because we’re too busy trying to survive. But if you’re real, you chose this for me, right? There wasn’t even anything I could do. I was doomed from the moment I was born because you decided it.

I’m tired. And I’m crying now. And, damn it, I’m desperate. So let’s cut a deal. You’re a reasonable goddess, right? You can’t just  _ expect _ people to blindly follow you. There’s no way. So, do me this one favor. Give me a sign, any sign, that you’re real, and I’ll repent. I’ll make a better effort to understand all this. And not just for Mercie, for me, too.

Because being alone sucks. Even if you’ve screwed me over this far, it’d be comforting to know you were there. Even if you’re just laughing at my constant downfall.

As always, keep Mercie in your heart. And, for good measure, keep me there, too. 

Please.

* * *

Dear Goddess,

Mercedes came to my room this morning and asked if we could talk. And, um, we did a little talking. But a little more kissing. Kind of weird to talk to you about this knowing that you probably saw it. Before that, though (yeah, sorry, I kinda jumped ahead to the most interesting part), she just hugged me for a while. We weren’t face to face for most of the time we talked, because my chin was on her shoulder. Then she said she was sorry for trying to force you on me. I said it was okay, but she said it wasn’t. I was really glad she couldn’t see me, because as she continued to talk, I got closer and closer to crying. 

_ Even if you don’t think the Goddess is here for you, just know that I am, _ she said. I’m used to being alone, I told her. And she said that I didn’t have to be.

I don’t want anybody’s pity. Really, I don’t. What good will that do me now, when I’ve already seen it all? But...it felt nice. When she was squeezing me tight, hushing me when she heard the hiccup in my voice. When she asked me if it was alright for me to kiss her. When I said yes and she did it, and I found out that she tasted like cake frosting. It all felt so nice. It’s not like I’ve never been in a relationship before—you’ve seen enough to know that, right?—but Mercedes...I don’t know. 

I need to apologize about this whole thing, okay? I was vindictive from the beginning. Towards you and her. Because she really did care about me. She knew how bad it was for me growing up, she knew how lonely I could get, and she pointed me to you. And I was a jerk about it. To be honest, even if you’re not up there (and I’m starting to think you just might be up there), it feels good to talk to you. You don’t say anything back, but...I dunno. Kinda feels like you’re listening. Which is astonishing, because I wouldn’t be able to stand my own self-pitying lovestruck rants for more than ten minutes.

To make a long prayer short: you might have me on the hook. And  _ not _ just because you got Mercedes to kiss me, if that was really you. I’m really going to work on being a little more pious, so bear with me, okay?

I need some holy luck to keep this thing going, so I’ll say my name first for once: Dorothea Arnault. Don’t forget to bless her. If you can find the time.

**Author's Note:**

> dorothea: i love u but the goddess is kinda lame lmao  
mercedes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqCL2eyjqmM


End file.
